And Fate Was Laughing
by YonderLlama
Summary: When Harry was hit with the Killing Curse his soul was split into 3 pieces. One piece was sent back to the 1930's. One to the 1960's, and one stayed in cannon time. What happens when Harry is captured and all is realised?


_To Be Special - Chapter One_

It was a special kind of bliss, one that can only be experienced in a dream, or memory.

The two children fell, tangled up in the grass, and rolled down the hill, laughing all the way.

It was beautiful, blurred, golden – the boys lay there in the sunlight, one giggling, the other rolling his eyes.

They were so similar.

Dark hair, green eyes

…

Snakes curled around their small bodies.

* * *

Rays of silver light from the moon illuminated a bed beneath a window. A couple of figures were rapped together in sheets, shivering with cold.

The smaller boy turned and whispered something with numb lips, blue and chapped.

The older child looked down at his friend, and gathering the thin sheets closer around them, a murmured a reply;

"Quiet, save your breath," … and then watched as his own brushed Harry's cheek, a white mist, icy like the air surrounding them.

"I-I'm s-s-so cold, Tom," the five-year-old replied, and he brought the covers up over their heads, attempting in vain to shield them from another cold draft of wind.

"Well, try harder to keep warm."

Harry blinked slowly and yawned. He felt so tired… he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep… it had never been this cold before …

The boy frowned.

_Warm…must keep…warm ... _

Did he feel any better?

Just for a second there… no. No – it was still freezing. He tried imagining a glow against his face – a pulsing matter of heat…

And yet…

_Come on…_

Icy fingers clasped his shoulder and he opened his eyes hesitantly, only to meet the shocked gaze of his best friend. This in itself was rare – Tom wasn't one to get surprised easily.

Then the child was distracted by the item immediately in front of him.

Harry gasped softly. It was just as he'd imagined it… round like a marble and blindingly white, glowing in the air… radiating heat …– almost like a fire.

Slowly the boys shifted their weight and brought their hands up to the light, gazing as if in a trance - relishing the warmth the mysterious pulse gave them.

Eventually Tom broke the spell.

"How are you doing that?" he asked, looking at the boy opposite him. Harry cocked his head to one side, confused.

"Uh… I don't, really… know?" he finally answered, scrunching his nose up in confusion. Tom regarded his friend for a minute, watching as the … thing… slowly faded between them, leaving the two children in darkness once more.

"You don't know," he said repeated. Harry shook his head.

"It just sort of – happened. You said to try harder to be warm," he replied, shrugging. "Do you think it can come back?" he added anxiously, crawling across the bed so that they were sitting side by side.

"Let me have a go," Tom muttered, closing his eyes.

Nothing.

Harry rested his head against Tom's shoulder, getting colder and colder as he waited for the light to come back.

He listened as the wind whistled in the eves – it was almost like music…

What was taking Tom so long? He was sure that that whatever he could do Tom could do too…

"Just…imagine its there, Tom," he mumbled sleepily. "Like make-believe."

Tom nodded absently.

…Harry yawned…

Tom glanced at his friend. All he could see was a messing black mop of hair, but he was more or less certain that Harry was falling asleep.

The 9-year-old smirked.

_Brilliant._

Harry was like him. He was special too.

He hadn't meant to find out like this, of course, but it was so wonderful to know for sure...

Tom slowly lay his friend down onto a pillow, with a caring quality that he himself was not familiar with. Then he also lay down quietly, sighing with satisfaction.

_There's more of us. I know it. There must be. We'll find them – one day we'll find the others with powers like ours. Like mine. _

And Tom placed his hand on Harry's small, fragile chest, gently pushing some of Tom's own power into him, warming him almost instantly.

In his sleep, Harry smiled in delight.

Tom didn't sleep that night.

* * *

They were so different…

So beautiful, unique.

One so innocent and the other as dark as the night sky…

So close, their souls entwined…

…magical…

…powerful…

- A boy who didn't even exist.

* * *

He was invisible – just a flash of black in the crowd. One second he would be walking alongside a wealthy young lady, or say, a man in a suit, and the next second he would be gone – melting into the background, hiding amongst the other pedestrians making their way along the Strand.

Tom watched as his companion subtly withdrew his hand from another oblivious person's pocket and rolled his eyes.

What kind of idiot walks down one of the busiest roads in London with his wallet hanging out for all to see, just begging to be stolen?

_Sometimes,_ the boy mused, _it's like your doing them a favour – at least next time they'll be more discreet when going out. _

Just then, Harry appeared by his side, panting and grinning like a lunatic.

"This is _great,_ Tom!" the child gasped, leaning back against the small newspaper stand. "We should ask for this post more often – there's _a tonne _of potential out here," he said, gazing out at the people on the street.

It was a hot summer day, and everyone was ambling about, looking in the shop windows, despite the current threat of war.

Harry turned to his friend and grinned mischievously.

"So, shall we go get some ice cream?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "But Harry," he said innocently as he looked down at his bright-eyed friend beside him, "you can't expect me to just _leave _the newspaper stand – what would Mrs Cole say if she ever found out?"

Harry giggled.

"Come on!" he laughed, pulling the older boy away from the stall and out of the shadows, into the sunlight.

They shared a smirk.

"_So…how much did you get?" _Tom hissed quietly as the continued down the street, side by side.

"_A lot," _he said proudly, _"Enough to feed the orphanage for a month."_

Tom's eyes flashed in approval – Harry's pick-pocketing skills had increased amazingly over the last couple of months, so much so that he had already surpassed Tom himself.

Suddenly, several hands Harry grabbed from behind, dragging him into a small alleyway. He yelped, and began struggling instinctively.

Tom whirled round, his eyes narrowing when he recognised the gang of other boys and girls.

Marty, the group leader, along with his sister, Sophie, were regular trouble for people in the Strand and Covernt Garden area of London – they ran all the shots when it came to burglaries and thieving. At the age of fifteen, the twins had been to jail twice and were wanted by the police with a price on their head. The others in their company were merely friends and lackeys, and though not as dangerous, for Tom and Harry they were trouble – out numbering them two to four.

"Tom!" Harry shouted, as he was pulled backwards.

Sophie had already begun searching Harry as the others pinned the child to the wall when Tom decided to step in.

"I would advise you to step away from my companion," the nine-year-old said coldly, standing in the entrance to the shaded alley.

All four of the teenagers looked up, and then laughed.

"Beat it kid," one of the older ones said, "Your lucky this isn't you," and he slapped Harry across the face, so that the little child cried out, and blood ran freely from his nose. "That should teach you for tryin' to get away with stealing on _our _turf," the boy spat, pocketing the money.

Harry didn't make a sound. He glared at the boy in front of him, his emerald eyes sparkling with suppressed pain and anger.

All of a sudden they dropped him, so that, at the unexpected motion, he fell to the ground knocking his head on the side of the biulding. Harry whimpered softly.

Tom seethed.

_I'll get them for this… _whispered a voice somewhere in the back of his mind.

_No one hurts Harry…_

_He's mine…_

_only mine…_

BOOM!

There was a deafening explosion, and the four kids flew to opposite side of the alley, hitting the wall with a definite _thud_, leaving the small dark-haired boy crumbled in a heap on the cobbled stones, leaning slightly against the other wall.

Tom strode forward, forsaking English for Parseltongue.

"_You are disgusting" _he whispered, his features distorted slightly by the green smoke which was rising from the ground. _"I warned you, and now …I'm going… to hurt you…"_

The teenagers at his feet were immobile with shock. His eyes flashed crimson, and he seemed to be almost inhuman as he towered over them. A small smile began to creep across his face as he contemplated different means of revenge…

_How dare they hurt him …_

"T-Tom?" came a small voice. Tom's head snapped round.

"_Tom? Tom where are you?" _Harry called, and something in Tom stirred as he heard his friend.

He went quickly to Harry, kneeling down beside him.

"_Did the smoke come from you?" _the six-year-old asked softly as they stood up. Tom nodded wordlessly, running his eye over him as Harry wiped the blood from his face. The nosebleed had already stopped, though it had only just been given to him. Things like that were normal for Harry.

"_Thanks,_" he whispered, looking down at his feet. _"I-I should have been more careful. I forgot about the others." _He glanced over at the far wall. The smoke had cleared, so it was easier to see. _"Where did they go?" _

Tom faked a careless shrug. "They probably ran away. It doesn't matter though – we can get them back later," he said, and raised an eyebrow at the younger boy.

Harry grinned.

They had some planning to do.

_This would be fun._

* * *

They had been played with...

Destiny was mocking them, and Fate was laughing.

One day all would be realised

...until then...

They could remain oblivious.

* * *

It was midnight when, at number Four Privet Drive, one Harry James Potter woke up panting. 


End file.
